


Of Gods and Angels

by irishlullaby13



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Butterflies, Desire, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Crack, Humor, I Don't Even Know, Original Character(s), Smut, and hell idk, crazy squirrels, ffs, fluffy puppies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-05 05:02:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5362388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishlullaby13/pseuds/irishlullaby13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They should have known better than to think they would be fortunate enough to have another nine month break between tribulations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of Gods and Broadway Musicals

They should have known better than to think they would be fortunate enough to have another nine month break between tribulations. Nope, barely a month had passed since Pandora and her man had been sent packing and strange things had already started happening again. At first Abbie had been in denial that the third tribulation had started so quickly. 

Especially since she was still readjusting to the fact, instead of accepting her resignation, the FBI wanted to promote her. Of course that could have had something to do with the circumstances which had left Danny's job open.

But then in came the wonder twins, Parikansh and Ruhi Shankar, from the Los Angeles office. They were a brother and sister team. Young, single, and damn good looking. Experts on the occult. Abbie hadn't wanted their help. But someone-- _Danny_ \--from higher up had apparently insisted her and Crane could use the multitude of knowledge the pair had.

To say Pari (as he liked to be called) and Ruhi got along like two peas in a pod would be an understatement. In fact, until Crane had mistakenly identified them as husband and wife, Abbie herself had thought maybe it was a misprint in their files. Pari had a warm personality and was charming. Ruhi was sweet and perky--and maybe just a little too obsessed with butterflies. Not at all what Abbie expected from experts on the occult.

But once she confirmed they were actually brother and sister, the way the two interacted made Abbie think of a certain Game of Thrones brother and sister. There was also the fact that, when Abbie dug a little bit deeper she found out the two shared a solitary hotel room _with one bed_ when they first arrived to Sleepy Hollow.

Much to Abbie's surprise, the pair had thought nothing of Crane involving himself in the investigation. After a day or two, Abbie sensed that Ruhi _definitely_ didn't mind. Abbie had caught Pari staring hard at Ruhi and Crane as the two poured over a book on local legends about lovers that tried to take their lives. Because that's what the case had started as--various couples attempting to kill themselves. Well, that was until one couple had succeeded. 

And the only clues they had from the scenes were strange markings and witnesses that claimed the couple hadn't been the first to try something in that same spot. Even though Abbie did harbour feelings for her partner and didn't like seeing him blush when Ruhi gave him a flirty smile and bat her eyelashes--getting into his personal space, touching his arm and hand, playing with his hair--she felt the need to put Pari's mind at ease.

"He's not a bad guy," Abbie offered, just loud enough for Pari to hear. Pari looked at her, confused. She cast a glance toward their partners. "My friend Crane, he's not a bad guy. He's actually a bit of a dork but... you don't have anything to worry about. Very old-fashioned... as if you couldn't tell by--" She lightly tugged on her shirt hoping Pari got the point.

Abbie gritted her teeth when Ruhi giggled loudly. She glanced over again in time to see the dark haired girl leaning on Crane's arm, looking up at him adoringly--Crane was blushing as red as the blouse the young woman was wearing.

"It's not Crane I am concerned about," Pari muttered.

Suddenly Ruhi let out a high pitched squeal and clapped her hands enthusiastically. "Abbie, Abbie, Pari," she called excitedly. "Come here, come here, we found something."

Their discovery had led the four of them to the local make-out spot, to which Abbie had grumbled, "Not this shit again" when she realized it was the same place Mary Wells had tried drowning people. She couldn't help but wonder what new and exciting person from Crane's past they were going to have to contend with _now_. She didn't know if she could handle Madam Butterfly _and_ more Crane family drama.

"I heard there was some kind of craziness that went on here a few years ago," Ruhi was saying as she searched behind bushes. "I'm wondering if this is somehow related..."

Abbie and Crane shared a look then looked toward the river. His look said what she was thinking. And she was thinking, _oh hell no_. But then Crane held up a finger to say he had a perfectly logical solution that was _not_ his ex-fiancée. "The victims from years past were victims of _drowning_ by the ghostly spirit of a woman dressed in black and wept over a love which did not return her affections."

Pari, suddenly snapped his fingers and pointed at Crane enthusiastically. "I like how you think, Crane," he said. "The only common denominator is location. Local spot that the young people come to get up to amorous behaviour. That naturally attracts certain types of supernatural influences. But the drownings stopped right?"

"Yep," Abbie said with a nod. "Supposedly the spirit got laid to rest." When she met Crane's eyes they shared a knowing smile.

"By a couple of local ghost hunters, we heard," Ruhi commented. "At least that's the word in the paranormal community. You should see the message boards on this town. I don't know if you're aware but... this place is a hotbed of supernatural craziness. And..." She knelt down behind a bush. "And supposedly there's these couple of badasses that take care of anything that pops up."

The look Abbie and Crane shared this time was one of concern. "When you say, message boards," Crane said with uncertainty.

"Places online where people talk about this stuff," Pari offered. "There's a few members of the National Paranormal Society based here in Sleepy Hollow... they've tracked down some crazy shit. Pictures and everything. This place is like the Holy Land of ghosts and stuff."

"It's part of the reason we jumped on Reynold's offer to come help out around here," Ruhi added. She peeked up from behind the bush, her eyes and smile wide. "I _really_ want to see if we can find the Headless Horseman while we're here. Some people said it was totally photo-shopped but... the o.p. swears it's real. He said some woman in a black cloak sucked the Horseman into a box." She looked down and her eyes widened as she gasped. 

Abbie, Crane, and Pari rushed over to the bush.

"Is everything okay?" Pari asked urgently.

Ruhi held up a hand. On her fingers was perched a bright pink butterfly. "It's so beautiful..." she said in awe. A bright blue and bright green one joined the pink one. "Oh look, he has friends." She admired the butterflies while the other three groaned in frustration.

"Ruhi, please," Pari sighed. "What are you looking for back there?"

Ruhi blushed and stood. "Sorry I saw the pink one and came back here to find it." She staggered slightly as she tried to step back around the front of the bush, her foot hitting something metal.

The metal turned out to be a box lined with a plush velvety material. The box, which was ajar, turned out to hold a decorative dagger. The sheath was red, adorned with curls and delicate of gold, tiny gems gleamed in the mid-day sunlight. The handle of the dagger was gold as well, etched with butterflies and hearts. When Crane pulled the dagger from the sheath, the blade was a deep red.

And that was when all Hell broke loose.

Whether it was demons or spirits or what, Abbie would never know. They just came out of nowhere. Ruhi and Pari had been caught between fear and amazement at the creatures. "God, dammit," Abbie groused aloud, once they had escaped into the munition tunnels. They wasn't sure if they had actually sent the monsters back to where they came from. But Abbie was damn sure they wouldn't be the last monsters they saw. "Can't we get a break? It's barely been three months! You just _had_ to pull the dagger out of the sheath didn't you, Crane?"

"What just happened?" Ruhi asked tentatively.

"You act as though I am the one who has inspired the arrival of yet another onslaught of supernatural entities which we must now dispose of," Crane huffed indignantly. 

"Excuse us but..." Pari tried to interrupt.

Abbie stepped ahead of Crane and turned to face him, walking backwards. "This has Ichabod Crane written _all over it_ ," she said, using her hands to indicate his towering form. "Shiny dagger which you will probably remember seeing in Thomas Jefferson's house in 1777, Betsy Ross--or Hell, maybe Martha Washington this time I don't know--oh and let's not forget this was all taking place where your evil ex-wife killed your ex-Weepy-Lady-fiancée. Oh, _and_ it's also where Weepy lady girlfriend liked taking her victims. Like I said--" she waved her hands dramatically "--Ichabod Crane, the new Broadway musical."

Abbie turned and stomped onward down the tunnels.

"Where are we?" Ruhi asked.

Abbie paused, Crane stopped next to her. They looked at each other then slowly looked behind them at Ruhi and Pari. _Well, shit_. She had gotten so involved with fighting that she had forgotten about the twins. "We'll explain when we get to the Archives," she huffed then continued down the tunnel.

  
##  


"It's the what?" Abbie asked. "And where did that book come from?"

Ichabod jutted his nose into the air. He shifted in his seat to keep from moving his hands overly much while speaking. "It was... a gift from Miss Shankar," he replied mildly. He kept his eyes down on the page in front of him. "And it is the Blade of Eros."

"Eros, you mean like the little fat baby that flies around shooting people with his little bow and arrow?" Abbie looked toward Pari when he quietly huffed 'That. is. _Cupid_.'

Ichabod managed to smile at the young gentleman's indignity over getting the gods confused. Ruhi seemed amused by it but patted her brother's back soothingly anyway. "Whilst many would argue that Eros and Cupid are one and the same due to the amalgamation of Greek and Roman pantheons... Master Shankar is correct. You are thinking of Cupid. Eros, while also winged, was depicted as a fully grown man and quite handsome given his mother was the Goddess of Love and Beauty."

"Never heard of the Blade of Eros," Abbie commented.

"Nor had I," Ichabod replied. "Yet good fortune smiled upon us when Miss Shankar gifted this tome to me." He glanced across the Archives to see the young woman was straightening Pari's tie. He nearly missed the look of disappointment that disappeared from Abbie's face when he finally looked at her. "Is something amiss, Lieutenant?" 

Abbie forced a smile. His heart ached at the sight of that smile. It meant he had done something wrong and she wasn't about to tell him what he had done. "Everything is great," she said tightly. "Hey um... Ruhi is sweet. She seems to really like you."

It had been six weeks since they had found the blade. Six weeks since he and Abbie had come clean about the on goings of Sleepy Hollow. Six weeks since the Shankar's had vowed to not mention _any_ of it on the message boards. Miss Ruhi had proven that, just because she was sometimes overly polite and lovely did not mean she was not intelligent and capable of putting up a good fight in the face of danger. So yes, Abbie was correct in the labelling of Miss Shankar as being _sweet_. Also, Ruhi had made a habit of constantly touching his arm or hand and being incredibly flirtatious with him.

So one could assume Abbie's second statement to be true as well. Although he was afraid Miss Ruhi's affections toward him, whatever they were, would go unreciprocated. At least in a romantic sense. He could have seen them being reciprocated had his heart not already belonged to one who needed only take claim of it. After all, Miss Shankar was a very lovely young woman with a vibrant smile. 

"The same many also be said of Master Shankar," Ichabod pointed out.

"Don't turn this conversation around onto me," Abbie scolded playfully, nudging him with her hip.

"If you _must_ know, Lieutenant, I not currently emotionally available. As the modern vernacular goes," Ichabod said. "And I have already learned it does not bode well when one attempts to _date_ someone when their heart belongs to another."

"Oh," Abbie responded, her tone was almost disappointed. "So that's what went wrong with--"

Ichabod kept silent on the issue and focused on the book. "The Blade of Eros is said to be the dagger which protects lovers from the evils which seek to tear them apart. Legends of unknown origins claim it will find itself in the hands of those who need it most."

Abbie picked up the item in question and turned it over in her hands. "So basically... whatever is out there, this is our means of fighting it."

His heart skipped a beat and for a moment Ichabod thought the world had come to a stand still. He swallowed hard. "Except, you and I are not lovers," he said, his voice wavering lightly. Abbie drew in a sharp breath and looked down at him. "And, neither of us were the one to find it."

They both peered across the Archives at Miss Ruhi. Abbie shook her head. "Nah-uh... no... no, I don't even want to think about that. It's all fine and dandy when it's a tv show and not real... but no," Abbie said firmly.

Ichabod sighed heavily. "She could very well fall in love soon," he provided, trying to get Abbie's head out of whatever she was implying. Suddenly it dawned on him what she had been meaning. "Miss Mills... that is her _brother_."

Abbie let out a relieved sigh. "Okay, okay, we'll go with your theory. That sits much better in my head anyway." She drew her bottom lip between her teeth to hide an impish grin. "But I know someone she _might_ be interested in falling in love with."

"Lieutenant," he said with a warning tone. 

"Come on Crane, we gotta start thinking defensively here if we want to stay ahead of the game," Abbie said, nudging him with her hip again. "It would at least give me time to dig a little deeper on these two. 'Cause I am not buying into the brother and sister thing."

Ichabod groaned and rubbed his eyes in frustration. "Should I do as you bid," he stated. "Will you _please_ cease all attempts at finding me a romantic partner?"

"If it means that much to you," Abbie said. "Yes."

  
##  


_"You're getting in a hurry," she said. "We need to slow it down a bit or she'll shut him out again."_

_"Says the genius that thought it was a good idea to add the other two to the equation," he huffed indignantly. "I say a nice arrow should do the trick. We just have to make sure he's the only one around at the time."_

_"Oh, my darling love," she replied. "It's not so easy any more. The mortals are much more intelligent these days. They question things. They notice things. Not necessarily in that order. Mark my words they'll be onto us in no time if we do it your way. This needs a woman's touch. It needs patience... it needs..."_

_"A swift kick to the head," he scoffed. "Honestly, my dearest gem, one arrow is all it would take."_

_She sighed. "They already love each other so it would be a waste. We need to be more calculating. I don't know... maybe have her walk in on him as he gets out of the shower?"_

_"That won't work," he groaned. "They already sit in on each other taking showers."_

_"Really?"_

_"Yes, really."_

_"Do you think we could have one of the patrons of comical misfortune, I don't know, have one of them slip in the shower and--"_

_"That. Is. Dangerous," he groused. "They may be Witnesses but they are still fragile human beings."_

_"Well we have to think of something," she said with a decisive sniff. "Love between the Witnesses has always been the greatest source of our power. And in case you haven't noticed, the world is kind of shit right now and could use a little bit of our help."_

_His eyes widened as though he finally had a workable idea. "I know what we can do."_


	2. Of Happy Coincidences and Creepy Squirrels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Abbie finally gets to enjoy Ichabod's Bedfordshire Clanger.

"What's this?" Abbie asked, lightly touching the old, worn scroll Pari was hunched over studying. He waved her hand away with an apprehensive 'no, no, no, no touch.' She pulled her hand away and he handed her a pair of gloves.

"Master Crane discovered them in the lining of the box that the dagger was in," Pari replied, smiling fondly. "There were several small scrolls. They seem to be written in a mix of ancient Greek, Latin, and--oddly enough--Hindi. Older dialect, of course, but it's one of Ruhi's specialties. Crane and I are working on deciphering the Greek and Latin portions."

Abbie arched her brows in interest. "So the scrolls are in three languages that I just so happen to have three experts at my disposal to translate?"

"Happy coincidence," Ruhi chimed from her perch next to Crane.

Pari smiled affectionately at his sister. "Yes... happy coincidence."

_Or a trap_ Abbie thought. As the weeks had worn on, things were getting more and more peculiar. She was starting to think it wasn't so much a third tribulation so much as it was someone seriously trying to mess with her and Crane. It was strange because normally, by now, they would have at least made some kind of contact with whoever was behind everything. But so far they were no more closer to finding out who was behind the attacks than they had been when it all started.

And the monsters were easy to disperse. A little too easy. And almost any time something strange started happening, there was something that turned up to lead them to another clue. A clue on how to destroy whoever was causing the mayhem, but no clues as to _who_ was behind it. Like the scrolls.

They'd had the dagger and it's box for weeks now and just suddenly they discover the small scrolls in the lining of the box that just happen to be written in three languages they were capable of getting translated with ease? No, something was up. And Abbie was hell bent on figuring out what it was.

"Agent Mills," Pari said quietly, casting a hesitant glance in Crane and Ruhi's direction. 

"Hmm?"

"I know this would probably seem untoward," he said. "But, Crane said you appreciated it when people are honest and upfront with you..." Abbie arched an eyebrow as Pari drew in a deep breath, she wondered if Crane had found some information about the two and he was about to come clean on it. "What I mean is, would you be interested in perhaps--" his voice wavered slightly "-- _partaking_ in a lunch date with me?"

Okay she hadn't seen that one coming. She glanced toward her fellow Witness who was currently admiring a butterfly charm bracelet Ruhi had bought at the antique store. Abbie felt a small twinge of jealousy over the fact he was cradling her hand so intimately while pointing out features and what they had meant "back in his day." Ruhi was just eating it up, giving him big pretty eyes, batting her lashes, licking her damn lips...

But she had to commend Crane on one thing, he seemed to be blissfully oblivious to it and wasn't even looking at her face. Unless he was actually trying to do the thing they had discussed a few weeks ago.

"I understand if you feel our work relationship would be called into question and you do not wish to--"

"I would love to," Abbie interrupted, giving him her best smile. "Just say when."

Pari chuckled nervously. The way he touched the back of her hand struck her as having a certain familiarity to it. "How about... Wednesday in two weeks?"

Abbie nodded. "Okay, that works. That's an oddly specific day but... okay."

Pari blushed. "I just... I have this... thing about the fourth day of the month. Don't ask why, because it's... embarrassing."

"Okay," Abbie replied. "I won't ask right now. But I do expect you to fill me in during the actual lunch."

Once they had gone to their respective homes for the day, the first thing Abbie did was corner Crane in the kitchen. Next to the stove, in the corner so that he literally could not escape. "Just what the hell are you playing at, encouraging Pari to ask me out on a date?"

Crane's eyes widened then his brow furrowed in confusion. "I did no such thing."

"Yeah, you did. He said you told him I appreciate it when people are upfront and honest with me," Abbie replied, poking him in the chest. He scanned the space for a means to slip away from her. But she could tell he recognized the fact she could easily step in front of him no matter which way he went.

Realization crossed Crane's features. "That... He wished to ask you for a date? I was of the idea he intended to be honest about something else."

Abbie backed down at that, stepped aside so he could scurry to freedom on the other side of the island. "Oh. So, you didn't know?" 

"I did not," Crane replied, not looking at her. He sucked in a deep breath. "Lieutenant. I was wondering if you had taken notice at the ease in which--"

"Everything is getting solved?" Abbie asked. That had been a nearly flawless change of subject, Abbie mused. It was something they were getting incredibly good at doing. They didn't even question it any more when it happened. Crane nodded. "Yeah I have. You're thinking it's all a little weird too?"

"Yes and... do you get the subtle feeling--"

"That someone is just fucking with us?"

Crane blushed deeply. "Not the precise terms I would use but... yes. I do feel as though we are being messed with. But, until we know precisely who is behind everything and what their purpose is... I fear we shall not be able to get ahead of their game." 

"And what really, really irritates me about all this... is that nothing is overly violent. I mean think about it, Moloch was anger, rage, death, death, death. Pandora was stirring up fear making everyone paranoid..." Abbie said, leaning back against the counter, folding her arms over her chest. "But so far there has only been _two deaths_ and that was at the beginning of the case and seemed to be more of an accident than anything. It's mostly just people acting really fucking weird... And it's not a threatening weird. It's like the frat house last month... I mean, what the hell was that about?"

The situation in question had involved an ancient relic which had turned a frat house into a good old fashioned Greek orgy. While in most circumstances that would not have made any questions arise, the fact it was _non-stop_ had garnered concern. Especially when anyone who was sent in to investigate or make them put an end to the party got caught up in the events. 

They had unintentionally enlisted the assistance of the Alpha Sigma Kappa across from the frat house in question. The sisters had noticed how everyone who came to the door was offered a drink, which then had the person readily stripping before they could even get into the house. So their plan of attack had been simple: Don't drink or eat anything when they went in.

The person behind everything had even been upfront and told them where to find the relic in question and they quickly contained it and everyone snapped out of it. _Too easy_. No explosions, no fighting. Just put the damn marble statue in a box and _go_. In fact it was currently sitting at the Archives in a glass display box, as far away from liquids as possible so it couldn't be used to... start orgies again.

"Perhaps there is something we are overlooking that could give us a clue," Crane replied. "Something which connects them all. A common denominator..."

Their eyes met across the island and Abbie wondered if he was seeing the same pattern. The pattern that led to the so-called common denominator. She wondered if, like her, he didn't want to admit what the pattern was out loud.

_Love_.

All the common denominators had been old tokens of love, statues of love deities, lovers, people who were in love... Hell, in a time where everyone everywhere had been playing Christmas music, they had gone into investigate something and "All You Need is Love" had been blaring over the speakers.

Crane sprang over to the stove as the timer went off. Abbie stepped aside and he knelt down to peek inside at his creation, then looked up at her, grinning almost seductively. "At long last I can give you a proper helping of my Bedfordshire Clanger."

Abbie tried not to read anything into the subtle dip in the tone that made it sound like it was not some kind of odd, colonial dish he wanted to put in her mouth. He quickly turned off the timer and oven, pulled the baking sheet from the oven.

"So it is a real thing after all," Abbie commented, taking a moment to appreciate the view while he was bent over. "And here I was thinking it was some kind of euphemism."

Crane shot her a mock scandalized look that quickly turned flirtatious. For a moment it almost seemed like he was going to make some kind of depraved remark but then seemed to think better of it and simply feigned checking to make sure his dish was thoroughly cooked. Suddenly all the flirty playfulness was gone and he had shifted back into all business. "It must cool for about fifteen minutes and then it should be ready for consumption."

He lightly touched the back of her hand, opened his mouth to speak, but then just hurried out of the kitchen.

Abbie pursed her lips as she heard him ascend the stairs. She shook her head and sighed. Same old Crane. One would think rescuing her from... where ever the hell she had been, he would have been able to say something or at least given her a hint or two. But nope, same old bundle of mixed messages. Maybe it was a good thing she was going out on a date with Pari. She couldn't just sit around forever waiting to find out what exactly that dipstick wanted. And if he realized it after it was too late, she'd just strangle him.

Her hands might not fit around his neck but dammit, she'd figure out a way to strangle him.

Suddenly it dawned on her why the way Pari had touched her hand earlier seemed so familiar. Then when she thought about it, Pari had been doing more than just touching her hand and picking up a few of Crane's colloquialisms... the son of a bitch was literally mirroring a lot of the things Crane did.

That sneaky little shit. But she would definitely draw the line if he showed up dressed in full colonial garb. She wouldn't be able to deal with two of them running around.

  
##  


_"You're going to get caught," she said, shaking her head._

_"I am definitely not going to get caught," he insisted as he climbed the tree._

_"Okay so you won't because they can't see us when we're in our natural state," she huffed. "But if you fall out of that tree I am not saving you."_

_"Never fear, my love, because some things are worth a broken neck," he proclaimed._

_"For the love of Aphrodite, you think chocolate truffles are worth getting your neck broken for..." she stamped her foot in frustration._

_"If you are so worried then join me, my love," he proclaimed, perching on the lowest branch._

_She sighed in frustration, then joined him._

  
##  


Ichabod sighed as he stared out of his bedroom window, a hand braced on their side of the frame. About fifteen minutes earlier some irritating chattering had caught his attention. Now he was currently watching two squirrels near the base of the tree outside of his window. On was on the trunk and the other on the ground.

It was almost as if they were engaged in a quarrel.

His ear perked at the sound of a knock on his door. Despite his door being open, Abbie still had the courtesy to knock before entering his room. "Can I come in?" she asked lightly.

Ichabod clasped his hands behind his back and turned on his heels to face his fellow Witness. "Certainly," he commended with a brief, respectful bow of his head.

Abbie pushed her hands into her pockets as she walked in. "You were quiet during dinner." She stopped in front of him. "Is everything okay? It's not like you to stay quiet for that long. I mean, that clanger was awesome but, you barely even looked at me."

"I was... contemplating." He turned back toward the window. The blasted chattering squirrels were now on the limb level with his window, still pestering each other. One of them froze when its eyes met his. The other became still shortly thereafter. Abbie came up beside and him and wrapped her arms around one of his, resting her cheek on his sleeve.

"Those squirrels are creepy," Abbie commented.

"Indeed they are," Ichabod agreed and pulled the curtains closed with his free hand. Abbie looked up at him and smiled. "Lieutenant, you are aware that I wish only for your utmost happiness, yes?" She drew in a breath and held it, her eyes widening as she nodded. He focused on the intricate paisley design in the curtains. "I have long contemplated what this would mean for _us_ as a team, as partners, as Witnesses to the End Times." _As lovers_ , he longed to add but he was not bold enough.

A multitude of possibilities danced through his head. Many of them involved Abbie writhing beneath him. Some of them consisted of her smile as he placed kisses on her belly, heavy with their child. Others were as small snapshots of a _normal_ life--walks on the beach at sunset, picnics in the park, stolen kisses underneath the mistletoe. Then there was the flip side... Abbie having those things with another. Abbie walking away into the darkness after they finished the final tribulation, without so much a goodbye or backward glance. 

It was always the last one that made the very core of his being tremble.

"And...?" Abbie asked when he had been silent for too long.

Ichabod shook his head to clear it. "It occurred to me that, perhaps, I should ask you what it would mean."

"Thanksgiving dinners with Jenny and Joe," Abbie replied quietly after a moment. "Christmas here at the house, we'd have Jenny and Joe over, of course. Between wrestling matches with demons and gods, whatever else comes our way, we'll relaxing on the sofa getting you caught up on two hundred plus years of entertainment."

"What of... _after_ ," Ichabod asked. "What about once these tribulations are done and mankind is safe for another generation because we were victorious? What would make you happy once there is peace?"

He felt his heart stop when she looked up at him again. This time there was something warm and inviting in her eyes. "I don't know," she said quietly. "Maybe go for the whole American Dream package... find myself a husband if I haven't... already found someone, start a family, white picket fence, find out what it's like to work with the FBI with a _normal_ case load." She turned and shifted closer to him, both of her hands sliding down his coat sleeve to wrap around his own hand. "What about you?"

Ichabod turned so they were almost chest-to-chest, or rather as close as they could get to being thus, considering her smaller stature. His fingers itched to trace the contours of her cheek, tuck her hair behind her ear; His lips ached to touch the softness of hers, his tongue longed to learn the sweetness of her mouth. He wanted to touch every inch of her petite body, taste it, learn what would make her arch to her limits and scream out his name. 

The tip of her tongue darted out to moisten her lips.

No, she couldn't possibly mean _him_. Master Pari had asked her for a date. Perhaps that was who she was considering? "What did you answer to Master Pari's offer of a date?"

The softness that had just been in her eyes disappeared and for a moment she looked as though she had been struck by surprise. "What? Oh... I... I said yes."

They both looked toward the window as they heard several small pings of something hard hitting the glass followed by the ungodly racket of squirrels chattering angrily. Abbie thrust the curtains open and certainly enough, the pestiferous squirrels were throwing acorns at the window and chattering furiously. It almost seemed like they were specifically angry with him and his fellow witness.

Abbie unlocked the window and shoved it up. She leaned out of the window and shooed at them. "Get out of here! Go, before I call pest control," she snapped at them. "You are _not_ going to turn my attic into your nest this year." When they scampered away, she shut the window with a heavy sigh. "Stupid squirrels."

She kept her back to him for a long moment. She sighed again before turning to face him. "Good night Ichabod," she said, a tenseness to her voice. Abbie patted his chest and made her way out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

It wasn't until he saw the hallway light go out that he realized what a grievous mistake he had just made. She had given him the perfect opportunity to confess his feelings for her and he had sullied it by inquiring about a romantic liaison that had not yet occurred.

Good Lord, he was an idiot.

  
##  


_"That idiot! That moron! She literally gave him the chance to tell her!" she shrieked. "I hate these two. I hate them so much. They are the most stubborn... thick headed..."_

_"One arrow," he said lightly. "That's all it takes."_

_"That would be cheating!"_

_"No it wouldn't. Think of it as just sort of... nudging them along."_

_"Eros," she sighed. "It would in no way be--in what realm of existence would your arrows ever be considered 'nudging them along'?... The magic in your arrows are erratic and unpredicatable on the best of days. Can you even fathom what they would be like right now... it would be like, shooting them out of a cannon, into the pit of Tartarus with a boulder tied to their ankles. And half way down, they end up underneath said bolder and then when they get to the bottom... splat."_

_"So you're saying it would be a very_ robust _nudge," Eros replied. "But a nudge, nonetheless._

_His dearest hid her face in her hands and sighed. "All right, theoretically lets say you do use your arrow. What if... whichever one you shoot with the arrow... sees their own reflection or--I don't know, a tree--before looking at the other?"_

_"My dearest, luminescent lily of the valley," he started, taking her hand._

_She snatched her hand away and jutted her nose into the air. "Don't you 'luminescent lily of the valley' me. The answer is, no. There are too many variables. And our very existence relies on their love being pure."_

_"Then what do you suggest, my love?"_

_His beautiful wife thought a long moment, then put her fingers to her lips to hide a demure smile. "I think perhaps a couple of my friends could be of assistance." When she pulled her hand away from her lips, two tiny butterflies appeared on her fingertips. "A kiss from you..." Eros kissed his fingertips and touched the delicate wings of the creatures. His dearest love held them at the level of her lips. "Take them dreams of love my precious ones." She blew softly and the butterflies fluttered away, disappearing into the house. She looked at him affectionately. "That, my love, is a nudge."_


	3. Of Distractions and Translations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Abbie finds a way to distract Ichabod and a certain goddess loses her shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pulchritudinous- I could have used the textbook definition of the word but I think this urban dictionary definition is much more suitable:
> 
> It is an adjective and it used to describe a person beyond beautiful, the next level above gorgeous, someone that even Aphrodite would envy. To a person who doesn't know the meaning of this word may think at first is that it is a vulgar word and a not nice thing to say. But they are wrong, it is actually the opposite. This word is bloody difficult to say! Only the skilled and boldest can use it very charming. When someone uses this word a shooting star falls from the sky, a phoenix is reborn and an unicorn mates. 
> 
> Oh, and inspiration for Abbie's dress in this chapter: http://picture-cdn.wheretoget.it/9bzagd-i.jpg
> 
>   
> ***  
> 

_"Put it away, Eros," she said with a warning tone._

_He lowered his bow with an exasperated sigh. "But there's mistletoe, they're eyeing each other. Now is the perfect time."_

_"They're taking down Christmas decorations," she groaned. "What do you expect?"_

_"She is thinking about it! He's thinking about it! They are literally thinking about fucking each other right this second! In the middle of all the Christmas decorations on the table." Eros caught a sudden movement near the driveway and an old beat up truck pulled in. "No, no, no!"_

_"No!" his dearest wife proclaimed. "Eros... do something! She can't interrupt them again! She's the reason they didn't get to kiss under the mistletoe during Christmas... and why they missed the midnight kiss on New Years!"_

  
##  


Abbie glanced up when Crane picked up the mistletoe garland and eyed it with fascination. She traced the curve of her lips with the tip of her tongue as she watched him roll it between his fingers. Dammit, man, why did she have to have all kinds of very inappropriate dreams about those fingers as of late? This wouldn't have been a problem a few days ago. But now all she could see was him using those fingers _just like that_ on her nipples.

She felt her face warm when he gave her big, blue puppy dog eyes, the corner of his mouth quirked into half smile. Somehow she felt like he knew exactly which course her thoughts had taken, that he knew what she had been dreaming about for the past few nights. Oh God, did he know about the dreams? Had she accidentally said anything about dreams as of late?

"What was the purpose of mistletoe at Christmas?" Crane asked curiously. "I believe you had never really explained it to me the last time the subject was breeched."

_Okay, stay cool, Mills. He's not telepathic or anything. He doesn't know,_ she told herself. "All I know is that it's traditional to kiss under mistletoe at Christmas time. The only story I've heard, the one about Achilles, doesn't make any sense. So your guess is as good as mine." She leaned over and bumped him with her shoulder. "Is there someone you want to kiss under it or something?"

"It... occurred to me that, amidst all of the celebratory events we had during the holiday season, that all of our guests shared a kiss underneath the mistletoe. Even young Master Pari managed to procure a kiss on your cheek underneath the mistletoe," Crane commented.

"Ruhi practically set up camp underneath it and you avoided it like the plague," Abbie laughed. "So I'm guessing it wasn't Ruhi you wanted to kiss." Her laugh faded when she realized Crane was focused on her lips.

"I was simply pointing out that it seemed the only two people which did not share a kiss underneath the mistletoe, save myself and Miss Shankar," he said quietly. His eyes flickered to the archway the mistletoe had been hanging in. His cheeks flushed lightly and he quickly put his focus back on the mistletoe. "Was you and I."

Abbie plucked the mistletoe from his fingers and held it over her head. She offered him her cheek. When he didn't kiss her cheek within a minute, she looked up at him expectantly. "Well? Are you going to kiss me?"

He took her face in both of his hands, his thumbs lightly touching either corner of her mouth. "Yes," he said softly and leaned in to kiss her.

She dropped the mistletoe within seconds of his lips touching hers. Abbie crawled into his lap, straddling his thighs as she kissed him hungrily. He groaned when she grabbed two fistfuls of his hair and yanked hard, she took full advantage of his parted lips and thrust her tongue into his mouth. His hands gripped her backside and lifted her onto the table as he stood. He let her go enough to sweep away boxes of ornaments.

" _Lieutenant_." 

Abbie startled and shook her head to clear it, Crane's voice bringing her out of her daydream. Damn, now they were starting in on her while she was awake. "Yeah?" She looked up at him and saw that his pupils were dilated as they became intent on her lips. He was still rolling the mistletoe between his fingers.

His lips pursed to form words. "W... W... Was it _not_ you who told me it was traditional for... for..." He swallowed hard and moistened his lips.

"For...?" Abbie asked. Part of her brain was still trying to finish up the little daydream she had let herself get caught up in.

"F... For... for... one to..." He blinked and puffed out a breath. "Not one... For two people... to..."

A knock rapped on the front door and a few seconds later Jenny let herself in, carrying a pair of wriggling puppies. Crane immediately shoved the mistletoe into the decorations box followed by the carefully repackaged ornaments. Abbie could honestly say she had never wanted to smack her sister in the face with a 2x4 before that moment.

"When did you get these cuties," Jenny asked, grinning ear to ear.

Abbie frowned. "They belong to the neighbours. Their dog had puppies a couple months ago and I can't keep them out of my yard. Just shove them back under the hole under the fence then see if you can find a concrete block to put in the hole."

Jenny went back outside to do away with the puppies. Abbie turned toward Crane as he picked up the box that was stuffed full of Christmas ornaments. He was doing that irritating thing where he was refusing to look at her while also looking like an awkward kindergartener that thought he was about to get in trouble with the teacher.

"Attic," Abbie provided and he quickly sprinted up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Yep, he had definitely thought he was about to get in trouble. For what, she wasn't sure, especially since she had been the one having dirty thoughts.

Jenny came back in a few minutes later, looking confused. "I could not find a hole under the fence. And the weirdest thing just happened... I had put the puppies down for a second and next thing I know they're gone. Nowhere to be seen."

Abbie shrugged indifferently. "Guess they found their own way home. So what's up?"

"You know how you wanted me use some of my sources to find out information about the wonder twins?" Jenny grinned wickedly. "I found something... or rather I found nothing. Which is something in this day and age."

"That look on your face tells me there is a _whole_ lot of something to their nothing," Abbie said.

"I got Joe looking into some of it right now."

And that was quite fortunate timing if Abbie could say so herself. She felt like maybe she would have some really good topics of conversation for her and Pari's date in a couple of days.

  
##  


_"Again with the arrows?!" she scolded. "Honestly Eros! Will you stop? We've been through this countless times..."_

_"I'm waiting for Jenny this time," Eros said indignantly. "I think her and that tree in Abbie's front yard would be very cute together."_

_"I think you just want to shoot something," his beloved teased. "Either that or... you know what watching you pull your bow does to me." She placed a hand on his and made him lower the weapon. "There is yet time. No need to resort to drastic measures."_

_"Of course... just a few more days. Then it's drastic measures."_

_"Precisely. But, not too drastic. You accidentally killed one of them last time you got drastic."_

_"That was not my fault and I stand by it," Eros huffed. "I can't help that one of the other gods decided he wanted to sink Atlantis." She looked at him pointedly. "I asked for a_ little _assistance. How was I to know he would take that as sink an entire civilization?"_

_"And what did you learn from that, my dear?" she asked._

_"To never ask Zeus for help," he grumbled. He watched the younger Mills sister come out of the house. "Are you positive you don't want me to make Jenny fall in love with a tree?"_

_His wife closed her eyes and sighed. "Put away the arrows."_

  
##  


Something about the day did not feel... right. Ichabod could not put his finger on it but something was certainly amiss. Nothing was _wrong_ per se, just not _right_. And he was fairly certain the feeling had started that morning when Abbie appeared at breakfast wearing a most delightfully lovely white dress. He had watched her float around the kitchen with a peculiar pep in her steps, the skirt swirling around her thighs with every step of her high-heeled foot.

Uniform trousers, tight fitting jeans, lose fitting slack, and even cut off shorts had managed to ignite the subtle hum of fire in his loins for his dear lieutenant. But her frock had him utterly entranced. He could not look away. Went so far as to lurk at a distance just so he could see the fabric swish around her gorgeously shaped legs. He peered around the island when she bent over to get something from the refrigerator.

Before that morning he had not even been aware the lieutenant owned a dress, much less would look so... pulchritudinous in one. Pulchritudinous. Yes, he had to reach deep into his vocabulary for that one. Yet it was the most befitting.

It then occurred to him that it was early January and that she would surely be cold in such a frock. Another oddity of the situation is that he clearly recalled Abbie wearing the very same dress in a dream he'd recently had, despite having never seen said dress in her belongings.

"Is there a... celebratory gathering today or did you simply wish to wear a dress?" Ichabod asked curiously. Abbie turned and nearly ran into him with her hands full of yogurt and strawberries. He reached out to steady her so she wouldn't drop her items or stumble in her high heels.

"Umm... yeah," Abbie replied lightly. "You like it? I think it was an impulse buy a few months ago because I didn't remember it until I was picking out today's outfit before bed last night."

"It is... lovely."

"And to answer your question," Abbie continued. "I have a... work thing... at lunch. So you might want to pack your lunch bag. Unless you're planning on something with Ruhi?"

"If I am not mistaken she is bringing a traditional tikka masala for lunch today," Ichabod provided. "She said she makes it every Tuesday night and there is always more than enough left over. I have been assured that is... as they say, to die for."

Abbie grinned brightly. "I think she's starting to grow on you. Next thing you know, we'll be on a plane to India to meet her and Pari's parents." He frowned and Abbie gave his arm a good natured pat. "Come on Crane, she's buying you books, teaching you a foreign language, making you food... That's like three of the top five things girls do so show their interest in a guy or something. Or if they're not, it's close enough."

"Please, Lieutenant," Ichabod sighed. "I am under no obligation to return Miss Shankar's affections. Although, I shall freely admit, under ideal circumstances our cultural exchanges could have led to romantic developments. She is intelligent, tremendously kind, and... "

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Abbie grumbled. "I get it, you're still not ready to move on from Katrina."

Abbie swept past him to prepare her breakfast then brushed by again to return the items to the refrigerator. When she left the kitchen with her breakfast, Ichabod sighed and rubbed his eyes with frustration. "It's not Katrina..." he said quietly. He cast a gaze toward the ceiling, as though pleading to God himself for guidance. "It has never been Katrina..."

  
##  


_"I told you the dress wouldn't work," she boasted. They sat perched in one of the windows of the Archives watching the Witnesses go about their tasks. Or rather, Abbie going about her business and Ichabod not being able to look away from her legs._

_"Oh, but he is looking," he replied. "And she knows he is looking."_

_"It is a lovely dress though." Her husband nodded in agreement. "It'd look even better on the Archive's floor."_

_Eros snorted, trying to contain his mirth. "Oh my beloved Psyche... that was terrible." She squealed and slapped his knee, pointing furiously at the scene unfolding before them in the Archives. "Oh... what's this?"_

  
##  


Abbie stretched her arms over her head to ease the ache in her back. Crane, bent over one of the scrolls and furiously scribbling down what he was able to translate on a notepad, paused during that moment and barely tilted his head in her direction. He quickly went back to what he had been doing when she fixed him with a pointed glare.

She playfully tapped his thigh with the back of her hand then leaned over to study what he was doing. "Got it all worked out yet?" she asked draping her arm along the back of his chair.

"Not completely," he murmured. "Putting the final touches on this one at least and I have three others that are mostly translated... In due time I suppose."

Abbie studied his tidy penmanship--well, tidier than most men's, it was still almost like reading Greek. She tilted her head. "I know this... I know this. It's a quote!" She reached over his arm to point at the words him, Ruhi, and Pari had translated so far. "'The blood of the covenant is stronger than the water of the womb.'"

For once, Crane seemed perplexed.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Most people say 'blood is thicker than water' to imply that family should come first," she provided. "But, thing is, like a lot of ancient words of wisdom, people altered it to their own likening to the point that it loses it's original meaning..."

Crane's eyes light up. "Much how 'spare the rod, spoil the child' in it's original context was because children were put to work as shepherds and took up the shepherd's rod to learn to work and have responsibilities... and somehow became synonymous with beating children to make them behave."

"Exactly!" Abbie said, beaming happily. "Basically, it means that the bonds we form by choice are stronger than those of biology or... maybe even fate."

He looked down at the notepad then lightly grasped her fingers. "Such as, fate brought us together as Witnesses," he said, almost as though he were thinking out loud. "Yet, by choice, we are..." He turned toward her just enough that, if he wanted, he could have easily kissed her. "We... we are..."

Abbie moistened her lips in anticipation, _just in case_ he shirked his normal sense of propriety and went for it. His eyes darted between her eyes and her lips. She could see the impulsiveness inside of him battling with what he felt was proper. "We are... what, Ichabod?"

"Abbie..." he whispered. The hand holding her fingers shifted in favour of entwining with hers. His other hand eased around her, coming to rest at the small of her back. Abbie caught her bottom lip between her teeth to hide a grin.

He was so close she could taste the mint toothpaste he had brushed his teeth with when she breathed in. "What are we, Ichabod?" she asked.

"I was hoping... perhaps... we were... or could possibly be..."

They both jumped when Abbie's phone started going off. Abbie wanted to hurl the thing across the room but saw that it was Danny, sending her a text to call him about the information Jenny had dug up on the twins. "I have to call the office," she groused.

Crane turned and looked at one of the windows as a muffled " _God Dammit!_ " echoed from somewhere outside followed by a crash.

  
##  


_Thankfully mortals didn't much pay attention when items randomly became dented. Either that or they figured it had always been thus. But even Eros, having never been mortal and not having a grasp of why his beloved was reacting so unfathomly bad, thought taking out a signal light was a bit much. He could understand her frustration, yes, time had proven that a primordial being was capable of at least understanding the behaviour of mortals. He had maybe even indulged in a little of what she called "healthy disapproval" at times._

_The authorities would probably say there was a power surge or something, as they couldn't see rampaging goddess or the butterfly she had disguised herself as. Not to mention, no matter how much one tried to convince anyone, they would never believe a butterfly had caused all the destruction his beautiful bride had wrought just outside the Archives._

_After a moment she fluttered back over to him and sighed with determination._

_"Better?"_

_"Yes. Thank you," she said tersely. "I swear if they get interrupted or one of them decides not to admit their affections one more time..." she growled with frustration. "Let's get these two together once and for all. I don't care if you have to take out an entire city block, this ends today. I have grown weary of living as a mortal again with only these small jaunts as ourselves."_

_Eros arched an eyebrow._ He was perfectly capable of taking out an entire city block if it got the Witnesses together. _"Just to assure I am understanding you perfectly... no arrows but... I can destroy an entire city block if I need to?"_

_Psyche huffed and nodded. "And try not to kill them, of course."_

_Eros grinned wickedly. He knew exactly what he was going to do._

  
##  


The "not right" feeling persisted after they arrived at the Archives. By that time Ichabod was convinced the white dress was the source of the feeling. Mostly because any time Abbie walked past him he ceased what he was doing in favour of watching the swish of her skirt. He hadn't gotten anything done by time the Shankar's arrived.

And of course there had been the ill-timed telephone call from Master Reynolds, which the moment prior had definitely been fuelling his desire to watch Abbie's skirt even more intently than he had been. Or perhaps it was daylight reveries of Abbie lain out on the table, skirt bundled where their bodies came together that was fuelling said desires.

"Staring won't make it fall off of her."

Ichabod jumped at the sound of Ruhi's whisper at his shoulder when he once again became distracted from his portion of scroll translating. Ruhi slid into the seat next to him. "I beg your pardon?" Ichabod gawked.

Ruhi smiled innocently and leaned in close. "You've been staring at Abbie like you're trying to use the Jedi mind trick to make her dress fall off."

"If I am not mistaken, the Jedi mind trick would involve compelling her remove it herself," Ichabod corrected. "Not that it would work on the lieutenant, she is much too strong willed to fall for such parlour tricks."

"You got me," Ruhi said with a wistful sigh. She placed a large baking dish on the table. "Hope you're hungry. Pari's not going to be here at lunch. I mean, normally I can eat this all by myself but, as a general rule, I don't eat more than the person I am sharing with."

"Miss Mills will not be joining us for lunch either," Ichabod provided.

"Yeah I know. Her and Pari are going on a lunch date."

Suddenly all his attention was on Ruhi. So that was why Abbie was wear a dress? He had been of the inclination that the date had already taken place... or rather, wasn't going to be taking place after all. He had been hoping the latter was the case, that the lieutenant had given it some thought and decided against accompanying Master Pari on a date. Besides she hadn't so much as mentioned the impending date since the night they had the run in with the squirrels.

"You must be mistaken," Ichabod said tensely. "Miss Abigail has informed me she has a work related function for her lunch time." And she had been quite implicit earlier that she had wanted him to kiss her.

Ruhi pulled out her phone and clicked through a couple of screens. She shook her head. "No... January 4. Pari has date lunch date with Abbie... exclamation point, heart emoji, kissy lips emoji, butterfly emoji." She pointed to the note in her calendar. "See?"

Ichabod took the phone from her hands. Surely Abbie would have _told him_ the date had been set in stone? He thought it over a long moment. No, no... Abbie _would have_ told him. But yet she had disguised it as a meeting or work related liaison. Obviously she had become privy to information on the Shankar's with which she was going to confront Pari over lunch.

"We'll be back," Abbie said across the room, as Pari assisted her into the coat she had donned over her dress that morning.

Ichabod thrust the phone into Ruhi's hands and leapt to his feet as Abbie and Pari made their way toward the door. " _Abbie_."

Abbie froze and slowly turned, as if stunned by his use of her name in front of others rather than a title or something that did not involve use of "Miss." A small smile touched her lips. "Yes, Ichabod?"

He searched for the words to convey what he wanted to say. How to tell her what he felt in his heart, while also letting her know he trusted her judgement in not informing him of what she was really going to be doing on the so-called date, yet not letting it seem as though something was amiss. "Enjoy your _lunch_."

"I'll do my best," Abbie said softly then drew her bottom lip between her teeth before turning back to the door and walking out with Pari. "We're just going to the diner."

The same moment the door clicked shut, Ichabod's ears perked at he sound of a loud crack next to him. He looked down at Ruhi, her gaze fixed on the door. In her hands was her phone, which she had apparently just snapped in two. Her eyes were wild, teeth grinding loudly, and she was visibly trembling. For all intents and purposes, she looked like someone about to, as Abbie was fond of saying, "lose their shit."

Ichabod slowly lowered himself back into his seat. "Is something amiss, Miss Shankar?"

Ruhi cleared her throat daintily. "I... have _had it_ with you two." He was about to ask for clarification when she continued on without any prompting. "Three years we have been patient with you two. _Three... years_. And to be quite honest, I feel we have been patient enough. You two are ridiculous. Ludicrously ridiculous."

"I am afraid I do not--"

"Shush," Ruhi huffed, putting a finger to her lips, and he was suddenly unable to speak at all. She waved a hand. Ichabod's chair slid forward until he was flush to the table. With another wave of her hand, his arms fell against the wood. He struggled to move but seemed to be latched in place by an invisible force. With a heavy sigh she propped her cheek on her fist, looking at him with bored disdain. "I am normally a very patient goddess. And it takes a lot for me to reach the level of frustration the two of you have managed to provoke."

Ichabod wasn't certain what he expected next, perhaps for her to shed her human disguise and show herself as some fierce ancient goddess... She scoffed.

"Really? Do I really put off those airs? _Fierce_? Me?" she squeaked. "I _just_ said I was normally very patient. Where do you get _fierce_ from an admission of being overly patient?!" She groaned and rubbed her temples. She fanned her face with her hands as she did several 'calming breaths' as Abbie called them. Once sufficiently calmed, she smiled sweetly. "You moronic mortals. I can't _believe_ I used to be one of you. And, before you ask... yes, when I wish, I can read your thoughts. I try not to do it often because every time my husband and I use our powers we get dreadfully drained. Which, you can imagine, is not a good thing for a goddess."

Ruhi folded her hands on top of the baking dish and sighed heavily. "You know what. I'm not even mad right now. I am _disappointed_." She eyed the dish under her hands then removed the lid with a disgusted grunt. "And you know what, you're just going to sit there while I eat this. And think about what you just did. Once you figure out what you did that has left me sorely disappointed, _Then_ we can talk." She pulled a spoon from her purse and shovelled a spoonful of food into her mouth. She pointed at him. 

"Get to thinking," she said, her mouth still full. "I'll let you know when you figure it out." She glared at him added a disgruntled, " _Jackass_."


	4. Of Threats and Beauty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which battle lines get drawn and Psyche realizes a big mistake.

_Normally he could hear her thoughts. They had spent eras communicating thusly, opting to put their mouths to much better uses than something so trivial as speaking. But, it had been wondrous to hear her voice again, to hear her melodic laughter that made his immortal heart ache to its very core._

_Though mortals placed the development of speech and text upon the gods, it was actually something they had come up with all on their own. Such clever little beasties. He had never given mortal words much care or concern until she had happened. The moment his eyes fell upon her he had fallen in love with her. A beauty that even Aphrodite could not surpass--hence why he had initially met his love, the ever irrational Aphrodite becoming jealous because she thought a mortal was more beautiful than she (although, in this instance, he had to agree with the temperamental goddess as Psyche had been and, still was)._

_Just as Ichabod Crane was afraid to tell Abbie of his love, Eros had feared letting his dearest butterfly even know who he was and had hidden his identity in darkness as their love blossomed and grew. In that aspect alone he could empathize with these delicate mortals. But if he had learned anything in the course of his relationship with his incandescent willow, it was that love held in the secret only ever resulted in getting badly burned._

_The fact he could not hear her voice in his head was cause for concern. He reached out to her again and could taste the exotic earthly spices she was so fond of on his tongue. "Psyche... are you stress eating Indian food again?"_

_"Don't tell me how to live my immortal life," she retorted._

_It was funny how, after eras has passed, some things about his wife never changed._

  
##  


Abbie perused the menu. She glanced at Pari on the other side of the table. He seemed distracted while he looked over a menu of his own. It wasn't the twitchy kind of distraction someone got when they were hiding something, which is what Abbie expected. Instead he seemed concerned, like he had gotten word something bad was happening and there wasn't anything he could do to stop it.

An emotion Abbie was all too familiar with.

"Everything all right, Pari?" she asked.

His entire demeanour changed in an instant. He smiled brightly. "Yes... yes." He lowered his gaze, his smile faded and he sighed. "Actually, no, it is not."

"What's going on?"

Pari swallowed hard. "Have you ever... felt powerless in a situation? Such as, powerless to fix something that was going terribly wrong? Yet you knew if you could not fix the situation, something far worse would happen?"

Abbie felt her blood run cold. She thought about all the findings on Pari and Ruhi, between both Jenny and Reynolds. Up until about two weeks prior to their arriving in Sleepy Hollow, the twins had virtually been non-existent, other than an obscure reference to a Parikansh and Ruhi Shankar that had gone missing during some flooding in Bihar nearly thirty years earlier. 

Danny had done a little more digging after she had presented Jenny's findings and he discovered that, despite having everything they needed on their resume and even having everything listed as verified, none of it had actual hard evidence of happening. No school records, no immigration records, not even a doctor's visit. They hadn't existed. No one that had been in their supposed training course knew who they were or recognized their faces or names. And when Danny had managed to track down the solitary reference to the twins it turned out they had been confirmed victims of the flooding.

"What's going to happen, Pari?" Abbie asked carefully. "You of all people know that, if there is something wrong, I can help. So tell me, what is it? Is it something real world or supernatural? Is someone involved in all of this forcing you and Ruhi to participate? Did they promise you something if you did?"

Pari sighed and shook his head. "You silly, silly mortals. Your pretty little labels and titles for things." He smiled fondly. "It was your most endearing trait I think... humanity in general, not you specifically. I have often wondered how a species so delicate and frail can be so--what's the word--godlike. Almost every last one of you rush headlong into battles as though you are immortal yet anticipate your death. It is beautiful. And, to be honest, I can't really fully comprehend it... battle and war and destruction are not really my... expertise." He beamed and pointed at her, his eyes dancing with delight. " _Loved_ your work with Pandora, by the way. The gods always thought she was so perfect. Urgh. Haven't seen a demise so elegant and pure since--" he sighed in awe "Goodness... I think since Inanna."

Abbie sucked in a sharp breath.

"Now _that_ ," Pari continued. "That was a woman that could beat your ass and have you saying 'thank you miss, may I please have more'. She was full of piss and vinegar just like you. Strong... beautiful... passionate. She hair was as black as a raven's wing, skin the shade of fertile soil that put the finest silk to shame when you touched it. Dumuzi was really a very lucky mortal to be able to call her his wife. She had a bad temper though. Flew off at the tiniest thing. 

" _Constantly_ sending her husband to the underworld for every little thing he did wrong. If you think it's bad she sent him to the underworld over that little misunderstanding when she journeyed to the underworld just to fuck with Ereškigal... He once said her earrings reminded him of her eyes--of course he meant it in the manner that they were dark shimmering gems--but she hated those earrings so... she sent him to the underworld for a few days because she felt insulted. Dumuzi and his sister practically had a revolving door on the underworld. He'd go in, she'd come out and talk Inanna into letting him come home. Geshtinanna would return to the underworld, Dumuzi would come back to the surface." He paused and looked contemplative for a moment. "What was I talking about?"

"You and Ruhi?" Abbie asked, her hand moving toward the small clutch she had brought with her.

Pari nodded. "Well, except that's not really our names, of course." He seemed to think a moment. "Actually, now that I recall we chose these names very carefully. We thought it very appropriate that Ruhi meant 'soul' just as her name does. I rarely call her by name because it reminds her too much of the mortality she left behind, so I reserve it for when she does something incredible mortal... not always a bad thing, mind you."

"And what's your name?" Abbie snapped the clutch open and slowly reached in to wrap her fingers around the hilt of the Blade of Eros, which she had slipped in when she first got to the Archives that morning.

"I may be a little off in the translation but just as my true name, Parikansh means... _desire_ ," he replied with a small flourish of his hands. "We couldn't resist. It was perfect." He cast a glance toward the empty space next to her in the booth. "Oh, you don't have to go bringing out the old blade just yet... My beloved water lily hasn't even gotten started on Ichabod yet. No need to rush things. How about I formally introduce myself?"

He sat back in his seat and the facade of Pari faded into smooth pale skin, honey gold hair, bright icy blue eyes, and a boyish round face. His appearance reminded Abbie of an old renaissance painting. He shook his head. "No, no, no... this is not..." he indicated himself. " _This_ does not invoke an aching desire in the very pit of your soul..."

"What is your wife doing to Ichabod?" Abbie asked slowly.

"Oh, nothing just yet. She's just stress eating at the moment, so no worries. Ah! That's it... I should do this properly," he said gleefully. He slid out of his seat and stood next to the table and with a dramatic bow, he became taller, thinner, his appearance and even his clothing turning into a perfect imitation of Ichabod Crane. "I am the primordial god of love and desire, you would know me as Eros."

Abbie shook her head. "No... no. Get rid of that face right now," she said, her voice giving off the slightest quiver. God, he even managed to sound like Crane. "Don't you dare try to be him."

Eros grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he slid back into his seat. "So tell me, Lieutenant, what unnerves you the most about this? That one can... so easily imitate your love. Or is it that, had you not seen me change before your very eyes, you would have been none the wiser?" He reached across the table and took her hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss it. He held her hand at his lips even after he had done so. "Could I have told you..." He closed his eyes and sighed longingly. "That I feel fate may have brought us together on the ethereal battle fields for the fate of mankind, yet in my heart, I feel something far more powerful than fate longs to bind us in a way that would prove just as rewarding as the battles we have faced."

Abbie sat unmoved by the god's ploy. The moment he had said Crane's favourite endearment for her, the same way he said it, something inside of her had snapped. She had already taken down gods. This one wouldn't be any different. "Call me 'lieutenant' one more time and I will shove this knife so far up your ass you'll taste metal," she said coolly, snatching her hand away from him.

She gently laid her hand on the table, Eros trailed his fingers down her own until he could fold his hands primly in front of himself. "Ah yes... I forget, that's his nickname for you. My beloved and I have often wondered if you two would get into the whole 'lieutenant' and 'captain' thing in bed... I know _he_ has thought about it extensively. To be fair, you are in for a real treat when the two of you get together... The man has a multitude of pent up sexual frustration he would just _love_ take out on you." 

Abbie arched a brow. 

"What?" Eros huffed indignantly. "I am the god of love and desire, what do you expect? And we've had nothing better to do over the past 200 and some odd years other than to peek in on what you were thinking about each other. Do you have any idea how _bored_ we were while that jackass was holed up underground? Do you think we _enjoyed_ watching you spend two lifetimes wondering what your purpose was because that short sighted little wench and her gal pals thought they knew the affairs of gods better than the actual gods themselves?"

Abbie cast a glance around the diner. Only a couple of people were looking hesitantly in their direction, everyone else was going about their business. Even the people looking their direction stopped looking as soon as their waitress waved a dismissive hand and said, "He does that, it's best to just ignore him. She'll rein him in shortly."

She reached across the table and put a hand over the one that looked like Crane's.

Eros fell silent. "You two are the ones that fell in love," he said quietly as she moved her hand away again. "My wife and I have just been... trying to help you realize it."

"So, if you're Eros, that means Ruhi is actually Psyche," she commented. "That explains the dreams, I guess."

The god smiled affectionately. "Ah yes, my beloved butterfly. I remember when I first looked upon her face. It was the first time I truly understood what it was you mortals must feel when you fall in love. I, a god, was terrified. But... no. My wife gave you dreams of _love_. Your _heart_ provided the lover. So if you dreamt of Ichabod, then that is where your heart lay. Just as he dreamt of you."

Abbie shook her head. "That's where you're wrong. I know the past few days have been confusing and may seem that way but... Ichabod said he couldn't go around dating people right now because he's still in love with Katrina."

"No he didn't." The god of love groaned and hid his face in his hands. " _You're_ the one that assumed..." He sighed heavily as he looked skyward. "He's not. Really, he's not. You silly mortal. Do you really think yourself _so unworthy_ of love that you would think something so--" He dropped his hands back to the table. Abbie steeled herself when his eyes softened. "Oh, Abbie... how could you, of all, people feel you do not deserve love? You, who has given so much, loved so deeply... convinced others that they were worthy of love..."

"I would really appreciate it if you would go back to looking like Pari," Abbie said tightly.

Eros sighed and rubbed his temples. "He's unable to start any relationships because he's in love with _you_. And he has been for quite some time now." He leaned over the table, ignoring her request to change from looking like Crane. "Just as you have been in love with him."

None of this made sense, Abbie thought. They had all been working side-by-side for months. So far there had been no endgame to what had been going on. No motive. Nothing. Just a bunch of pointless clues and hints. There had to be something more than what he was letting on. "What do you want?" Abbie asked. "Really. What it is you and Psyche want? It can't just be to get me and Crane to fall in love."

Eros pretended to ponder it for a moment then nodded. "Actually... yes that is all we want! I'm not a fighter. I'm the god of desire... of love! If you ever wondered who the term 'he's a lover not a fighter' was about, you are looking at him!" He thrust his hands out the same way Crane did when explaining something excitedly. Had the situation been different, Abbie would have been amused by Crane making such a proclamation. But it wasn't Crane, it was a god that had adopted his appearance. Eros, seemed to think better of his disguise and word choice because he scowled and cocked an eyebrow speculatively. After a moment he nodded, "I suppose it is still befitting. And Psyche, despite having minor anger issues, nor is she a fighter."

Abbie shook her head. "This can't possibly be a really fucked up attempt at matchmaking."

"I _just_ got it out of my--" Eros said with a heavy sigh. "Urgh... Why are you mortals so hard headed? I sort of expected something like this... Drastic measures it is." He pinned her with a determined stare. "I do hope you're not overly fond of this city block."

  
##  


"And... no one ever believes this is my natural mortal form," the goddess was saying. She had moved to sitting in front of Ichabod on the table a few short minutes ago. "They think of Psyche and think, oooh, renaissance paintings, white people. They can't even fathom that the god of love and desire would think I am more beautiful than Aphrodite." She dropped her spoon into the empty dish. "I mean, Eros can look however he pleases since he has been a god since the dawn of time. He has no real physical form, per se, he takes one because he wants to. Although at the moment doing so weakens him. Me, because I started as a mortal, I can only change human appearances when at full power. Am I wrong to be insulted? Am I not considered beautiful any more?"

Ichabod shook his head. "You are not wrong to feel insulted. However, many are accustomed to imagery from art and from tales passed down through the millennia, which have traditionally depicted you in a different manner. Which is no excuse for their ignorance. It is... quite easy to see why Aphrodite would become jealous of your beauty, in your natural state, and why your beloved would become so easily enraptured as to defy the will of a goddess as temperamental as Aphrodite."

Over the past few minutes, the goddess had become increasingly more docile as she indulged in her food. She had even permitted him to speak again. Moving was an entirely different matter. However, the moment she beamed happily he gained back the ability to move.

"Thank you," Psyche said sweetly. "That was a very nice thing to say." She sighed lightly. "I'm sorry for losing my temper. I don't normally do that. Kick a mailbox? Yeah. I'll do that in a heartbeat. Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I? I know mortals are very easily hurt which is why I try not to use my powers on them." She rolled her eyes playfully. "Eros is always telling me I still think too much like a mortal. I don't necessarily see that as a bad thing."

Ichabod rotated his shoulders and straightened his coat. "Unwounded, thank you madam." He gently took the goddess' hand. "So you are indeed the Goddess Psyche, guardian of the soul, wife of Eros?" 

Psyche sighed wistfully. "See... that's why I like you. But it's also why you are so frustrating. You're so polite. I just want to tell you everything because I know you would accept it and believe it. See, Abbie is more like my husband, stubborn. You could tell her the sky is blue and she would argue with you about what shade of blue it is." She patted his cheek with her free hand. "Now come on... what's the hold up? Why aren't you telling Abbie how you feel? And you can't deny what you feel to me, I am wife to the God of Love and... well, I'm not blind or stupid. You love that woman."

Ichabod nodded. "Indeed I do harbour feelings for the lieutenant," he confessed quietly, releasing Psyche's hand. "There are times I feel she would openly return my affections. But, when I manage to get the courage to say so, great doubt creeps into my mind and says she does not. And I would rather my love go unrequited and live with the possibility that she may return it than to confess and live with the reality that she does not."

Psyche took his face in her hands and poked out her bottom lip in a pout. "You big, cowardly man," she said, almost as though he were a child and she his mother. "You're so cute. And so stupid." She let him go and leaned down so her face was close to his. "Let me let you in on a little secret." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "She loves you. She just thinks you should be the one to say something first."

He was about to retort when the entire building trembled followed by the loud rumbling of thunder. Psyche yelped and put her hands on the table. She looked around with concern. "Uh-oh." She stood up on the table, eyes wide. " _Oh gods_. He _didn't_." She scattered into a cloud of butterflies. The cloud moved to the window then returned to the table, where Psyche turned back into her mortal form. She looked like she was going to be sick. "Oh Gods. He _did_."

Ichabod leapt to his feet, pushing his chair back as he did. "He did _what_ precisely? I know your beloved has done something... what has he done?"

Psyche rubbed her temples. "I've told him time and again not to take me seriously when I say things out of frustration," she whimpered. Her hands dropped and she looked toward the sky. "Hera, help us..." She looked down at Ichabod. She glanced away, hands tucked behind her back. "I _may have _told Eros he could take out an entire city block if it helped get the two of you together."__

__Ichabod hurried toward the door._ _

__"I'm so sorry!" Psyche called, but he had already rushed out of the Archives._ _


	5. Of Love and Angels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are kisses, dragons, and blueberry poptarts.

This had definitely not been what she had in mind when she accepted the date from Pari. She could have dealt with finding out he was a god, it would have been odd but yeah, whatever. Shape-shifting? Not the strangest thing she had encountered, though she did draw the line at him imitating Crane. But shape-shifting into a serpentine dragon with large bat-like wings...

 _That_ she hadn't been expecting.

The people in the diner had been more surprised than Abbie had been. Within a minute everyone was screaming and piling out of the doors, into the streets. Even the waitress who had taken ranty Eros disguised as Crane in stride was running out yelling about being too old and not getting paid enough to deal with all the crazy crap that went on in Sleepy Hollow. 

Abbie could feel her pain. If fate hadn't tied her to dealing with said crap, she would have probably packed her bags and hauled ass out of town before she ever looked into Crane's baby blues. She would have gotten into the FBI quicker and maybe asked to be stationed somewhere like Hawaii or Florida. Or Alaska. As far as she conceivably could get from New York state, Headless Horsemen, and displaced colonial soldiers.

She brandished the knife like it was a sword as she backed toward the door herself. The creature reared back, loudly sucking in a breath. Then it let out a loud shriek-like roar which made Abbie cover her ears and the windows of the diner to shatter.

Once the beast was silent, Abbie held up the dagger defensively. To be honest, she didn't even know if the damn thing would do what it supposedly was meant to do considering she was using it against the same god it was named after. Or hell, for all she knew the blade itself was just another trick.

She stepped out of the glassless door and onto the side walk. Eros stormed forward, lowering his head. "You silly mortal. That blade will only work if its to protect your love," he bellowed. With a swipe of his wing, he took out over half of the store front and lumbered out after her.

"Yeah well, I can still try," Abbie said with determination, her backwards movements taking her into the street which was now littered with abandoned vehicles.

" _Lieutenant_!" 

Abbie jerked her head in Crane's direction as he came running down the street. He screeched to a halt as he took in the massive dragon. Crane held up a finger at the beast, as if he were prepared to talk it to death, then seemed to be at a loss for words. He looked at her questioningly.

"Yes, Crane, it's a dragon," Abbie offered as an answer to his unspoken question. "That just happens to be the god Eros. And in case you didn't know..."

"Ruhi is Psyche, yes I am aware," he finished for her. “I was just uncertain as to whether this was Eros.”

Eros chuckled deeply. "Oh now this is going to be entirely too easy..."

The dragon made to move toward Crane but a swarm of butterflies floated in and took form as the young woman Abbie had come to know as Ruhi. She was facing the dragon, hands up. "Eros, stop!" she cried out. "This is not how to do it... You, above all, should know that love is not something to be forced."

Eros lowered his head to Psyche's level. The young woman gently stroked his elongated snout then lightly kissed it. "It must be done, my shimmering moonbeam," he said quietly. 

She shook her head. "No... it does not. You know what will happen if you expend yourself." Psyche rested her cheek against the dragon's snout. "Do not become the monster the oracles foresaw as being my husband. Be the god I suffered at the hands of Aphrodite for, to prove my love."

For one brief, shining moment, Abbie thought Eros had seen reason. He shed the facade of being a dragon and turned himself into another human form. This one tall, muscular, dark complexion, with big green eyes and golden hair. There was something undeniably Roman in the almost hard angles of his jaw and nose. He wrapped his arms around Psyche's tiny frame and kissed the top of her head.

Of course, Abbie should have known better. She should have known better than to lower her weapon. She should have known better than to think gods would show any kind of mercy or humanity.

"Forgive me, my love, but this must be done," Eros said. "Just trust that I know what I am doing."

Abbie gawked when a long blade pushed through the middle of Psyche's body. Eros withdrew the sword as she staggered backward. The goddess looked down at her abdomen, blood staining her silky blouse. "You asshole," she yelped, touching her wound. "This was my favourite blouse. Arachne herself spun this silk... and you've... ruined it." Her tear filled eyes fell on Abbie. "Can you believe he put a hole in something made by the hands of Arachne?"

Abbie dropped the knife and rushed forward to catch Psyche as her steps faltered and she knelt to the ground. "He just stabbed you through the gut with a sword and--"

Psyche smiled faintly. "'Tis but a flesh wound, my dear. I am a goddess. I will shed this skin when it expires and my soul will be released back into Olympus." She touched the wound gingerly. "Arachne will be very displeased I let it get torn. Do you have any idea how long it takes her to spin silk this fine?" Abbie tried to find the words to respond. " _One hundred years_ for just a tiny strand. It took her aeons to make this blouse." She somehow managed to shoot a glare at the god. "And he _ruined it_."

The goddess was dying and she was worried about a hole in her shirt, Abbie couldn't help but think. 

The goddess touched Abbie's face. "Oh my darling Abigail. I have enjoyed our time together these past few years. I'm always so enraptured by you elegant strength. Everyone says you remind them of a young Athena.” She drew in a deep breath. “I know you probably don't care what we silly gods have to say but... Just remember... fate and prophesy brought Eros and I together... Loving him was my choice." Her eyes lit up as a bright purple butterfly landed on the back of her hand. "And Death greets me in all her beauty." She eyes twinkled as if imparting a secret. "Betcha didn't know Death was actually a woman, did you? The myths always get things wrong..."

“Yeah well what do you expect from stories written by men,” Abbie managed to say and it came out like a bittersweet tease.

Psyche smiled brightly and a heavy breath escaped instead of laughter. “Until next time, I suppose. I've enjoyed helping the two of you fall in love again.”

The light faded from Psyche's eyes and her body became dead weight in Abbie's arms. The woman then changed into a swarm of muted, grey butterflies and they, along with the pink one fluttered away, disappearing into the turbulent sky. When Abbie looked up at Eros, she could see pain writ across his face.

She looked to Eros. "What the hell?" Abbie cried out, looking at the god accusingly. "You said you _love_ her."

The god's eyes saddened as he looked at his wife's blood on his sword. After a moment the blood absorbed into the blade. "I do. And that is why I am letting her shed this mortal realm and return to Olympus, where she belongs." Psyche smiled at him adoringly. "I shall rejoin her soon. And together we shall watch what remains of our home crumble into nothingness."

"You didn't have to kill her," Abbie said.

The god tilted his head and blinked slowly. "What do you pathetic mortals know of what the gods require?" He looked to the sky and all around him before letting his eyes fall back to her. "Would you have rather I let her grow old in that fleshly prison? Or worse let her die in a car crash or something more _mortal_? I showed her mercy. At least now we shall suffer the same fate as our brothers and sisters of Olympus... together."

"So you plan on just kneeling out and not putting up a fight?" Abbie asked, climbing to her feet.

The god held his sword at the ready. "Oh I do not plan on going quietly into the night, Abbie." His eyes flickered to something behind her. "And look at this idiot bringing a knife to a sword fight."

Abbie turned just in time to watch Crane, determination on his face, rush past her the Blade of Eros in hand. She didn't even have time to call out his name before the god struck him hard with the back of his hand. The blow sent Crane into the broadside of a car, leaving an imprint of his frame in the side of the vehicle and the back of his head shattering a window. She rushed over as he slumped to the ground. 

"Crane... Crane... can you hear me?" she asked. Abbie felt for a pulse and he let out a soft groan. She helped Crane sit up. He blinked at her as though he were drunk but eventually focused on her face, despite one pupil being drastically larger than the other. He held up a finger and muttered something intelligible that sounded an awful lot like 'blueberry poptarts,' with a tone so serious she nearly laughed. She was pretty sure something got jumbled in transition from his head to his mouth on that one. Abbie shook her head and placed a quick kiss on Crane's forehead. "Just stay right here."

He grasped her hand tightly. "Kiss me."

Abbie blinked at him. His voice had been drastically slurred, but his message came through loud and clear this time. "You really think _right now_ is the time and place?" The serious look on his face said that he indeed thought it was the perfect time and place. She rolled her eyes and shook her head again.

She didn't have time to explain that he definitely had a concussion and what a concussion was. She had a damn god to take care of. Then she had to get Crane medical attention.

Crane looked at her and gapped, trying to squeeze out words, finger poised in the air. Finally he huffed with irritation. Then something wholly uncharacteristic of the quirky colonial man happened. He grabbed Abbie's face and, before she could think to stop him, he kissed her.

For a moment, Abbie forgot all about everything going on around them and melted into the kiss. His fingers moved from her cheeks to entwine behind her neck as his warm lips moved gently against hers. Okay, maybe he had been right in thinking now was the perfect time. Except, of course there _was_ a psychotic god still on the loose.

Abbie pulled back and gave her partner a soft smile. “Let me deal with this first, then I will kiss you as much as you want, okay?”

Crane swept a hand wide and muttered incomprehensibly before making a clumsy attempt to get up. Abbie patted his cheek and put a hand on his chest which made him cease his clamouring. “No, you stay right here.” She took his face in her heads. “I got this.”

She got to her feet and looked down at him, trying not to feel concerned by the fact the eye with the dilated pupil was twitching. Once Abbie retrieved the knife from the ground she turned to face the god, who was patiently awaiting her return to the fight. In fact, he was looking at Crane with a hint of panic in his eyes.

“I am no expert on the injuries of mortals but... I think he needs immediate medical attention,” Eros commented. He glanced toward the sky as rain started pattering down upon them. He closed his eyes and smiled softly. “Olympus is reborn. I believe the mortal phrase they use these days is... Hallelujah.”

Oh Great, that's all she needed was more gods to contend with. 

Eros opened his eyes and looked at her. “There's only one you must be weary of. Athena. None of us knows precisely what she has planned for the two of you this time. But I do know that when the last embers of the Beltane fires fade, the next tribulation will begin. She is normally quite peaceful but... the gods do not think as mortals do. There is no telling what she has laying in wait for the Witnesses this time.”

Abbie sucked in a breath then ran toward the god. He didn't budge nor make any move to block her attack as she raised the knife. The blade shattered the moment it touched him. Abbie's eyes widened and she looked at the hilt in her hand.

Eros gently took the hand grasping the remains of the knife. “Do not worry. That was just a silly little trinket. Your love for him is strong and true,” he said quietly. He coaxed her fingers open so the hilt dropped to the ground then he knelt down in front of her, placing the hilt of the sword he carried in its place. “This however is a gift from the god of war himself to aid you and your fellow Witness in the times to come. She has bore many names since the ancient times. But I believe you may know her as Excaliber.”

Abbie gapped for words as the ran began pouring down. She would have gladly asked him if he was serious, if this was some kind of joke, but he smiled mysteriously and disappeared in a flurry of rose petals. After a moment she became aware of emergency sirens and turned back toward Crane. He had managed to get himself to his feet but was looking around wild eyed and confused, leaning against the damaged vehicle for support.

The ambulances came to a stop and the EMTs set to seeing to their duties. Abbie was taken aback when the first EMT to reach Crane was Joe followed by three female EMTs, she hadn't even seen which response vehicle they had come from. The four of them guided Crane to sitting on the ground again.

Jenny was jogging toward her from a distance.

The only thing out of place in the whole situation was that... Joe and Jenny had gone to Lake Placid for the weekend. In fact, Jenny had sent her a picture of the cabin they were staying at a few minutes before the “twins” had shown up at the Archives.

Jenny threw her arms around Abbie's neck as soon as she reached her. “We got here as quick as we could.”

Abbie gently put her at arms length, taking care in doing so because she still had the sword in hand. She narrowed her eyes when her sister grinned impishly. “Psyche?”

'Jenny' stretched her arms over her head. “It does feel good to wear a new mortal body and face again. It's a bit like playing dress up for us,” the goddess chimed. Her eyes widened when Abbie's hardened. “Oh, no, no, no... your sister is just fine. So is her boy—fiancé. As of five seconds ago... fiancé.” She grasped Abbie's free hand and swayed in a carefree way that Jenny hadn't done in a long time. “It may just be because of who my dearest love is but... I love when couples are happy enough to decide they wish to spend their lives together.”

“You talk too damn much,” Abbie said with a bemused smirked. “You both do. And that's saying something considering I know _him_.” She nodded toward Crane and the staff working on him. “Who are they?”

“They're not going to hurt him,” Psyche replied. “That's my beloved, of course.” She pointed at Joe. “And those ladies are Panacea, Aceso, and Iaso three of our resident healing goddesses. They're sisters. My dearest angel thought they were the best for making certain your love was properly healed. They were more than happy to help even without being confined to Olympus for so long.” She lowered her voice. “I've already prepared the Archives for you two. It's closer than your house and closer to medical facilities if needed.”

One of the real EMTs hurried up to Abbie. Abbie held up a hand and shook her head. “I'm good. Might want to check out some of the diner customers.” 

One of the healing goddesses coaxed Crane into drinking the contents of a small bottle. Concern crossed Psyche's features. “Must have been bad if Panacea broke out her vials.” The goddess arched her eyebrows when Panacea presented a second vial for consumption. “Okay so... Eros was not being dramatic when he said they didn't have long.” She looked at Abbie. “But don't worry. Even if he had died they have something to fix that too. As long as they act quickly of course.”

Abbie slowly looked at the goddess. If these guys were supposedly on their side, she hated to imagine what it would be like to have one of the gods as their enemies.

“Pandora will seem like child's play compared to Athena,” Psyche said quietly. “You'll have your work cut out for you trying to stay one step ahead of her and _technically_ we're not supposed to interfere.” She smiled angelically.

“I think you guys have interfered more than enough at this point,” Abbie commented dryly.

“Oh Eros and I have a couple more things in mind,” Psyche responded. “But I promise it's nothing like this whole travesty. Eros always gets carried away when trying to get the two of you together. Two hundred and some odd years of being confined to the mortal planes can make deities frustrated. Our mission may be completed, but you never know when you might get little hints here and there to help you with what Athena has in mind.”

Eros and the three medical goddesses stood. The tallest of the three goddesses made her way over to Abbie a vial cradled in her hands. Abbie's eyes fell to her ID badge, which if one wasn't paying attention looked almost exactly like the Westchester County EMS badge. It identified her as Panacea. 

She delicately placed the vial in Abbie's hands. “We have done all we can for now but he will need to drink this in the morning just to make certain there are no lasting effects to his injuries. In the next few minutes he will regain his facilities. He needs to refrain from any strenuous activity for at least the next two hours. If he gets a bad headache at any time within those two hours, simply call my name and I shall come to you. He can resume normal activity once the time has passed.” She bowed her head gently. “Do you have any ills which need attention, Miss Mills?”

Abbie shook her head. “Not unless someone can tell me where my jacket and shoes have gone.” She knew she had removed her jacket in the diner but it was kind of demolished. God only knew when she had kicked off her high heels so she could fight without worrying about breaking her neck.

Panacea blushed gently. “You would have to consult a different goddess for that... Or perhaps your local Oracle?” She turned toward her sisters. “I sense no further illness. Let us return home, my sisters.” She reached into the pocket of her BDUs and removed a small vial and handed it to Abbie as well. “For the cold you will have in a few days' time. You will need only drink half. The other half can go to your fellow Witness.”

The three goddesses, Eros, and Psyche all disappeared. Abbie's eyes fell to Ichabod, sitting in the street leaned against the car. He still looked perplexed but seemed less disoriented. His eyes met hers and saw him suck in a breath as she started toward him.

  
##  


He couldn't explain what had happened if he tried. One moment everything in his head had been jumbled, made no sense, and he had been experiencing a headache that felt more akin to his brain being forcibly removed via his stomach. The next moment everything had started resorting itself into order.

The very first thing he became aware of was Abbie.

She looked like an angel.

A rain soaked angel of vengeance, but an angel nonetheless.

Between the nearly translucent, blood splattered, white dress which clung to her curves as though it were a second skin and wielding a glimmering sword, he was taken aback when she started to move toward him.

"Crane," she called shakily. One could safely assume, in lieu of his injury she feared he had suffered yet another that could have caused his demise. “You all right?”

Ichabod blinked against the downpour and groaned as he picked himself up off the ground. "Lieutenant," he said, still somewhat breathless from whatever had happened. He doubled over to rest his hands on his knees and breathe in deeply. He felt a brief wave of dizziness which faded almost as quickly as it came. “ _Abbie_. Are you unharmed?”

Abbie closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. She muttered something of which all he could understand was 'idiot'. “Yes,” she finally said. “I am unharmed.” The corner of her mouth quirked with the tiniest of smiles at her use of one of his terms.

“Eros... did you manage to...”

She looked up at him. “You don't remember anything?”

Ichabod searched his memory. “I recall... being struck by Eros... then everything until a few moments ago is a jumbled mess.” He moistened his lips and was perplexed at he taste of cherries he found there.

Abbie's expression turned curious for a moment. “That explains the blueberry poptarts comment.” She shook her head to clear it. Her arms wrapped around his waist. He enveloped her in a returning embrace.

She was safe. They were both safe.

He kissed the top of her head, letting his lips linger. Perhaps, for longer than decency should have allowed. He felt Abbie shiver in his arms. "Good Lord, you're freezing," Ichabod said, taking enough steps back to strip himself of his coat. His eyes roamed down her body, taking in the full effect of her rain drenched dress and her lack of footwear. "And your frock is... white. In the rain." His face flushed as he put the coat around her shoulders. As soon as he was assured of her being protected from prying eyes, cold, and rain, he began unlacing his boots.

“What are you...” Abbie objected as he tugged both of his boots off then knelt down to guide them onto her own feet. He laced them up as tightly as he could but they still drooped pitifully on her delicate limbs. "What about you?"

He remained kneeling and stroked her cheek with the back of his knuckles, his eyes roaming over her face. "A gentleman always puts the needs of his lady first.” All around them police were trying to get statements from the people that had witnessed the on-goings. Ichabod's eyes flickered around the scene before he took Abbie's face in his hands. "I wish I had the proper words to say," he said gently. His glanced around again before settling on her lips. 

Instead of allowing him to say anything further, Abbie lunged forward, her mouth dropping onto his. He sensed a warm familiarity with the softness of her lips. The flavour of Abbie's cherry lip balm exploded in his mouth. He reasoned that, perhaps, during the moments of disorientation he must have kissed his precious lieutenant. His hands fell to her waist, pulling her closer. Abbie draped her arms over his shoulders and her fingers glided through his hair.

Neither was sure how long they had been standing there in the rain, sharing kisses. Just that they had gotten progressively less playful and more intensive when a sharp, _Ahem_ made them come to an abrupt stop. Abbie stepped back, Ichabod's face flushed red and he scrambled to his feet at Sheriff Reyes' intrusion.

The sheriff looked between them, fists on her hips and her mouth pressed into a hard, disapproving line. "A few of the witnesses took video of what happened," Reyes said. "And general consensus is that the two of you were at the centre of the fight, which does not surprise me in the least for some reason." She looked between them again. "You two have until noon tomorrow to have your story straight and to give me your statements of what happened. That is, if the FBI doesn't want to take it from us again." Both gave a murmur of agreement. Reyes put a hand on either of their shoulders. "You two should get some rest and get warmed up."

"Yes, sir," Abbie said with a nod. 

Once the sheriff walked away, Abbie looked up at the sky. 

It had stopped raining. 

She drew in a shaky breath and drew herself back into Ichabod's arms. He placed a soft kiss on Abbie's temple. Despite being soaked through, Ichabod didn't think he could ever find a safer and warmer place than in Abbie's arms.

"The sheriff is right," Ichabod murmured. "We should get warmed up."

"That sounds... very good," Abbie said, playing with the ties of his shirt, looking up at him. “And Psyche said she had the Archives warmed up for us. It _is_ closer.”

Something in Abbie's tone made him think, perhaps, there was more than just a fire and warm blankets awaiting them at the Archives. “Then let us make haste.”

  
##  


They must have looked a sight walking into the FBI, soaking wet. Her wearing his coat and boots, covered in blood. Him still somehow looking indignant and holier than thou despite his dishevelled state. Abbie marched right into her office, Ichabod followed behind, both acting as if they didn't give a damn at the odd looks they were getting.

Odder than normal because the lurkers were wondering if they even _wanted_ to ask this time. The person that did ask, however, was one Deputy Director Daniel Reynolds. Well, sort of. He at least had the decency to lead with, “Do I want to know what the hell happened?” when he approached her door.

Abbie looked up from her computer, arched an eyebrow, then blindly reached over and yanked a piece of paper from her printer and slapped it down on the desk in front of her. She did the same in fetching a pen and quickly scribbled down a note. “All you need to know is... crazy ass matchmaking gods,” Abbie replied flatly. “But they are officially out of our business.”

She walked over with the note in hand and offered it to Danny. “Official request for a week of personal leave. Well... a week and couple of days. We'll be back in a Monday week.” When he didn't take it, she thrust it against his chest and let it go, letting Danny scramble to catch it.

“We?” Danny asked.

Abbie pointed between herself and Ichabod. “We. Beach in Florida, California. Maybe the mountains. Hell maybe we'll go to Tijuana, Cancun, maybe even India. All I know is... we're going somewhere far away from Sleepy Hollow for about a week and spending as much of it as possible sweaty and naked.”

There. Blunt. Danny liked blunt.

Danny pulled a face and looked at Ichabod. The smirk on Ichabod's face looked like the cat that somehow managed to get not only all of the cream at the dairy but stole the damn cow too. Danny just nodded and muttered that he would get the request filed for her then turned and walked away. Ichabod bound to the door and closed it quietly.

“What do you think?” he asked.

Abbie pursed her lips as she debated. “I was thinking... a gift basket maybe?”

“A gift basket?” Ichabod asked incredulously.

Abbie nodded. “Couple bottles of thousand year Ambrosia... some of that flavoured body dust. Massage oils... A few nibbles.” 

Ichabod's eyes lit up. “Oh yes, they will certain be needed some nibbles. Especially if I give them a small vial of _this_.” He pulled a small heart shaped bottle from his trouser pocket. His beloved grinned excitedly.

“And then we can hit up that new Indian place a few streets over.”

He groaned and rolled his eyes. “Honestly Psyche, what is your fixation with Indian cuisine?”

“They didn't make it that way when I was mortal!” she huffed. She smiled sweetly and fluttered her eye lashes. “Please? It's my favourite. It is so delicious...”

“Yes to the gift basket,” Eros replied. “We'll have to get something 'to go' from the Indian place. Zeus would like to have words with us.” Psyche pouted, which looked rather adorable on the face she currently wore. “Now, we must get going before someone realizes the real Ichabod and Abbie are at the Archives.”

No one ever bothered to wonder how Abbie and her partner left without anyone noticing. Nor did they notice the two bright red butterflies that fluttered out the window.


End file.
